Life
by Black Beyond
Summary: Ack, I know! It's been forever! Part 4! Sirius is a prisoner of war, forgotten in a cell as dismal as anything could ever be. He's pissed, angry, hopeless, sad, and all those other pleasant emotions combined. And all he wants to do is to tell
1. Hopeless

  
  
  
  
I don't remember what happened. Just snake-like eyes and a laugh so shrill that it resembled nails on a blackboard more than a human voice. A flash of green and then a whisper of promised death. Then pain pain pain pain... and then... here I am.   
  
Maybe I'm insane by now. You know, If I were this place wouldn't be half bad. It's all the same color... I've lost the name for it, names don't matter anymore. But it's dull and lifeless, the worst sort of color. A few days after I came here I used to make myself bleed just to change the colors. Now there's a brown stain here and there, but it's all this same color, the color that reminds me of nothing.   
  
There should never be a color like that. All colors should remind you of something, an emotion, a memory, a song, a whispered promise... the color that came from my body reminded me of a flower. I remember the flower's name, but it is useless to me. Perhaps you can use it. It reminds me of a poppy.  
  
And of love. Did I ever have love? I must have at some time... because I remember feeling whole, instead of like a great part of me is simply missing. I remember having the will to move, to speak, to run and dance and grin and laugh and...  
  
Laugh. I haven't laughed for a very long time. Nothing to laugh about, no one to laught with. Laughter is nothing unless there's something to hear it. It's only beautiful when you know someone can at least know it's there. So I don't laugh. There aren't even mice to keep me company. I thought there were supposed to be mice in places like this, to match the decor.  
  
I made a joke. This day has become remarkable. Usually all the days just blend together... I stopped keeping marks a long time ago... not that they told me anything. I don't know when I came, so how many marks I make can only remind me of these long periods of wakefulness. Can a person sleep to death? Maybe I should try.  
  
I bit through my wrist once, to see if anyone cared. Just to see a face, damn it. I've forgotten what I look like, let alone another human being. Or maybe I'm not human-- is that it? I feel unconscious and when I awoke, no one was near but my wound healed and I was still alive.  
  
Poison? I haven't eaten for years. It's some kind of spell or the like. They give me nothing. Nothing to amuse myself, nothing to kill myself. So I sit. I don't think I've moved forever. I don't know. But it seems like forever. I just don't want to move anymore. There's no crack in the walls-- the walls are the same clod metal, not a crease or corner, just sloping up or down to make the floor and ceiling.  
  
It would all be better if I just didn't think so much.  
  
I see things against the walls sometimes. Just shadows. Little whispers of things that might have happened. Sometimes I think I'm there, but there aren't any faces, just shadows...  
  
"Harry, you can't do that."  
  
"I've done it before."  
  
"We've all done it before! It's our job."  
  
"Let me go, Harry. It's an easy job."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yes, let him go in your place, Harry."  
  
"I'm going. No argument."  
  
I really believe that was the stupidest moment of my life. I should have let Harry go. He wouldn't have gotten himself captured, locked up like this. Harry would have died first. Harry would have been braver. Harry Harry Harry...  
  
His eyes. His eyes... they are the color of dreams and of hope, of strength and courage. Those eyes can make you feel on top of the world one moment and dying in the very pits of the blackest dispair the next. Those eyes have more power than he shall ever know.  
  
I wonder if there was a final battle. I wonder who won. I wonder if I am forgotten here, supposed dead or gone. I wonder if I shall speak again, and I wonder if I am dead or alive, and I wonder...  
  
Is this death? Is this what my life came to? All those moments of hate and happiness... in the end, is this my final resting place?  
  
Has my life been wasted....? 


	2. Insanity...?

  
  
  
I wonder if I could use my magic if I tried. Probably not. It's not like I care enough to try. I lost all my willpower an eternity ago. I don't care anymore. Does that bother you? It bothers me. I mean, I should care, right? When you stop caring, you're dead. I must care about something. Because I'm not dead. They won't let me die.  
  
They. When I find out who they are, I will have one happy day. It will be their last day and the best day of mine. I will not kill them. I lost my interest in Death about the same time it told me to fuck off and skipped town. Death won't touch me. So I'll be damned if I give him any victims to leech off of. He'll take me first.  
  
If I tore my own neck off, do you think they would care? Would they try to save me? Probably. This is their sick game. I'm Victim, and they're a bunch of bastards who couldn't tell their faces from Voldemort's ass. I hope they piss God off.   
  
Speaking of God... I hate You. I am the cursed one. Am I your punching bag? Your fucktoy for days when you're bored? Do you turn to me and say, "Ah, hell, there's only minor chaos and death today. Let's go and screw with his life. Maybe we can send him to Azkaban again!" and then I'm your uke again. "Let's fuck up his life so bad this time that he'll just stop caring!"  
  
You did one hell of a job, God. Let me be the first to congradulate you... Oh, I understand. It's hard to be God with only one hand.  
  
I wish I'd told Lupin I'd loved him....  
  
This emotionless color is starting to get to me. I screamed today. I thought I ehard something... I know I heard something. In this hellish. nightmarish place, you cannot mistake sound. It has been so long since I have heard anything but my blasted heart and my damned breathing that I knew it was true instantly.  
  
Damn them, they love this. This is their sick game. They're fucking with me the same way god does-- YOU'LL NEVER BREAK ME! I hate you, I hate you all. One day I'll escape for the soul purpose of killing you all! I never did anything! I was good little fucktoy. I didn't try to go all suicidal or anything... I toughed it out. And you're pushing the limit, you assholes.  
  
I was the rash one, the stupid prat. I would give all the magic and gold in the world for a time turner. I want to go back and kick my own ass all over Hogsmeade. I want to grab my own shoulders and shake myself and scream, "You idiot! You git, you stupid prat, you're foul and insane! You'll never get it, will you? You'll end up like me and then you'll see it all too late that nothing matters and it's NOT all about the next drink or ride! See, damn you! Stop being so blind and ignorant and SEE!"  
  
I want to tell Harry I really did try my best...  
  
I'm sorry, James. I didn't protect you. I tried to warn you. I was too late... I knew Peter was doing something behind our backs but I should have known... I'm so sorry... I shoudl have killed that slimeball when I had the chance. I should have ignored Harry and just killed him. I knew something was up since the day he turned into a rat. Why didn't it ring bells when that was the animal best suited for him?  
  
Harry, I loved you too. You were too much like James. Everything... everything except those eyes of your's and the way you went into things without a care. You got those from Lily. You should have know her, Harry. No one could hate her. Voldemort couldn't hate her.   
  
I'm stupid and I'm worthless. I've never done anything right. I'm only good for brute force. I don't have a brain worth mentioning. I should have just left for good. I can't do any harm here, at least. No harm except to myself.  
  
Do you hate me, God? Do you enjoy watching me twitch as I realize that no one cares! Do you get some sick, perverted pleasure out of watching me cry, out of watching me wonder and strain to see anything but only seeing this endless emotionless color? Do you like to fuck with me, God?  
  
I am nothing.  
  
I have truly wasted this existance. 


	3. Light of Freedom

  
Light of Freedom  
Part three of "Life"  
  
  
  
I wonder what I did to piss You off, God. I wonder... did you just draw lots earlier on, from a bucket the fates threw at you? Was I just lucky? Or is there something else behind this. Did I get born on the day when you and Lucifer duked it out and he got the best of you for once? Is that it? Or did I say something unforgivable in my childhood that I don't remember, something like, "What the fuck, He doesn't know All."  
  
Did I speak the truth, God? Is that how I pissed you off? Everyone else in this world hates the truth, why shouldn't you?   
  
I want out, god damn it. Find someone else to fuck with. I want out of this place! I want to leave. I want to see color again, I want to feel. Is that so much? Can't your fucktoy make a request and gasp, have it granted?  
  
No. You're too much of a bastard to give me a good day.  
  
You can't break me, you know. Maybe when I was younger, before the umpteen years in Azkaban, maybe you could have. Maybe I would have cried and begged and threw myself. But not now, not anymore. I'll sit here cursing you mentally for the rest of this wretched existance if I have to, but I WILL NOT CRY FOR YOU ANYMORE! DO you hear me, God? Give it up.  
  
You're taking some sick pleasure in all of this, I know you are.  
  
I'm alone! That's not much of a new thing, is it? Dear me, was that *humor*? I must be getting my funny bone back, God. Ha! You really haven't broke me. Time to get some new flunkies, God. The ones you've got right now aren't even close to top-notch. Do you even exist, God? Can you fucking hear me? If you can, you're one cold hearted bastard. You do not exist. At least, not how that world of ignorants think you do. There's no such thing and good and bad. You're the same as Satan, as Tartarus, as every vile, evil thing that ever existed.  
  
You know all, eh? Explain the bible, you foolish old man. If you know A L L, then why the FUCK did you create man? If you knew how "evil" we'd turn out. Don't give me shit about hoping for us to be better. YOU KNEW. So why'd you do it? Do you LIKE seeing us kill one another? Oh, yes, the good one in every bad batch, blah blah. Up your's. This is stupid and sick and if I ever get out of here and if I ever meet you and get my hands around your oh-so-spiritual neck, I'll squeeze and squeeze until I FIND a way to kill you.  
  
Let me out of here. Just let me out. Let me out so I can tell Lupin I love him. If he's still alive. I know YOU don't approve, but your opinion doesn't matter anymore. I'll send my afterlife in whatever hell you've got if only to kiss him goodbye.  
  
Does that piss you off? I hope so.  
  
I want to know why you made Voldemort. And Hitler and Peter and all those other twisted fucks. Did you do it just to torture Harry? He's a good kid, honest one. You don't see his kind much. He's GOOD. But you've done everything you could to make him miserable! You are one sad person, God.   
  
Maybe this is a dream. If I close my eyes, I'll end up in OZ, and Lupin will be there, and I'll meet Dorothy and say howdy to the Cowardly Lion and live happily ever after with Remus and make up and find myself wondering if I've got enough coffee to wake up. You think?  
  
I don't.   
  
I'm starting to think kindly again. Everytime I work up enough anger to tell you to fuck off, it always dies away too soon. It dies away as soon as I think of Remus. Of Moony. Of Lupin. You fucked him up too. Of course, if you hadn't, he'd probably be some spoiled prat. So thanks. I kind of like the whole werewolf thing...  
  
Why can't you just let me leave?  
  
It's not like I'm asking a lot.  
  
Hey. Wait.  
  
Everything just went... ARG!!!  
  
"Blue! It's blue! Color, my! It's... alive... free... oh, oh.. thank you."  
  
--------  
  
I'm not sure what I just did... 


	4. How Could You?

Life, Chapter 4  
finale (unless you guys want more... I might bunch this together as a prologue and make   
a plot, if ya'll want)  
black beyond  
~'~  
Sirius's POV (as usual)  
  
  
  
What the bloody fucking hell did I ever do to you, God? Just tell me that and I swear I'll never speak to you again. I want to know how you can do this to a human being and still sleep at night. I don't even think that bastard Voldemort could do it, and yet you do it on a regular basis.  
  
If I were you, I'd be afraid to let me die, God. After what you put me through, I would be so fucking afraid to let me die. Because believe me, I will find a way to kill you. I will find a way to make you feel pain like you've never felt before. I want to rip your chest open and made you see all the wonderful blackness in your chest and the mottled purple of your heart as you die, and I want you to feel at least half the pain I feel.  
  
You killed Lupin.  
  
I could have forgave you for trapping me in the recesses of my own mind, placing me in that colorless hell-hole just because you felt like. I could have forgave you for everything else.  
  
And then I wake up. They say I've fucking been in a coma. Lupin's dead. Dumbledore's dead. Ron's half-there from the Crucio curse.   
  
What is the matter with you? Why can't you just leave people alone? Why can't you just sit back and play with the colors? Why do you have to torture people who don't deserve it? Ron was just a kid. Dumbledore was the most honorable man I have ever met.  
  
And I loved Lupin.   
  
That's the reason you let him die, wasn't it? That's the entire reason. I killed Lupin. You let him die because it was the only thing keeping me sane. Dumbledore helped me so you killed him. Ron liked me so you hurt him.  
  
Fuck you.  
  
Do you hear me? Fuck you. FUCK YOU. You've won, okay? You've FUCKING WON! No matter what you do, people still worship you and still love you and still fucking BELIEVE IN YOU. They KILL FOR YOU. WHY? How can they still believe when you torture them like this... you kill babies and mothers and little boys and girls and Lupin...   
  
How do you sleep?  
  
I'm insane. I'm out of my mind. There's no use telling you off anymore. You hate me. I'm your little punching bag, your fucktoy, your uke. Having a bad day? Let's knock Sirius out, throw him in a little room in his mind, kill the man he loves and then just for kicks, kill off a few more!   
  
Having a good day? Oh, that's right! You don't *have* good days. But on those really boring days, you let me out of the coma and watch me scream at the doctors who tell me that I've been in a coma and that Lupin's dead. Listen to me keep screaming even after they say, "Look at the bright side, chum. You-Know-Who's gone!"  
  
LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE? There's no bright side! All the beautiful colors left the moment he did. Nothing matters. Everything reminds me of him. Everything. I can't even walk outside without you reminding me of him.   
  
And you let me live, God. Living without Lupin isn't living.  
  
He didn't deserve it. He was a beautiful, kind, loving, warm person, something this warped little place you gave us needs. He was everything and more... and you killed him! What is it? Do you have a bet with Lucifer on who can fuck this place up fastest? Or who can make me loose it completely and go fucking bonkers and start cursing every thing that so much as twitches the wrong way? Is that it? Tired of starting massacres and wars, Jehovah, ol' chum? Starting in on individuals now?   
  
Yet... the world still turns. You'll still be up there and I'll still be down here, no matter what. And Lupin will still be gone. I'll never forgive you for that, you know. You could have at least waited. I never told him I loved him. YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST LET ME TELL HIM!  
  
Do you see this? Tears. I'm crying-- does that MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?! I'm crying.   
  
I just wanted him to know...  
  
That's all...  
  
---------  
  
sorry it took so long!!! 


End file.
